


Her Butler, Solicitous

by eevilalice



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Community: springkink, F/M, First Time, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eevilalice/pseuds/eevilalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ciel is not her first, but his butler is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Butler, Solicitous

**Author's Note:**

> To give proper warning, this story does contain a brief, veiled reference to Ciel's trauma at the hands of his captors.

It doesn’t even hurt when Sebastian begins the slow, steady push inside. Her mother warned there’d be pain on her wedding night, but all Elizabeth feels is a strange, new pressure. A fullness. Still, she muffles a cry against the shoulder of the handsome butler above her.

 

This is not her wedding night. 

 

“Shh,” he soothes, pausing, though he’s already fully seated inside. He nuzzles her cheek, plants a warm, lingering kiss there, then another at her neck, just beneath the ear. “My lady, your quim is so hot, so tight.”

 

Her body bucks into his with the jolt of his breath in her ear, the vulgarity of his words. “Is that . . . good?”

 

She feels him smile against her neck then sees it on his face, charming and seductive. “It is all,” he intones, withdrawing until she misses the heat of his length, the new fullness. Eyes locked on hers, he thrusts, and she whimpers, the pleasure of it reflected in the gleam of his dark, dark gaze. Hot, slick fingers find what Sebastian told her is called the “clitoris,” and a surge of pleasure rushes her small frame, radiating from between her legs. Elizabeth discovered that bit of flesh and what it could do years ago, but Madame Red, upon catching her at it, had explained that only her husband should make her feel so good.

 

Only Ciel.

 

She smelled him on Sebastian before he undressed in his ethereally efficient manner, as he held her, kissed her. Sebastian has no scent of his own but holds Ciel’s like the air holds rain before it comes and long after.

 

Her hips, on their own accord, join Sebastian’s in the rhythm they’re establishing, a pace both steady and driving. She clutches at his shoulders, pants, wonders if a lady _should_ pant just as he claims her mouth and swallows her breath, licks at her tongue, sucks it, and Elizabeth’s mind is quiet.

 

Against her, above her, Sebastian’s body is lean but broad, his chest a solid, hot mass brushing her breasts. Beneath her grasping hands, his shoulders and back muscles tense and release. Her calves rest upon thighs that do not strain. 

 

In contrast, Ciel remains frail, birdlike, even at seventeen. Still, she knows his fragile form belies his ferocity, the depths of his loyalty.

 

As does hers.

 

“Thinking of the young master?”

 

Elizabeth’s tightly shut eyes open wide, and the curtain of Sebastian’s ink-black hair falls about her sweat-sheened face. His smile this time is knowing, indulgent.

 

Should she not be thinking of Ciel? Oh, but Sebastian . . .

 

Before she can do more than bite her lip in confusion, the butler is cradling her then turning them both until she’s staring down at him, hands braced on his finely muscled chest. She squeaks, startled, and bows her head to let her long, blonde hair cascade down before her.

 

Sebastian leans up and pushes her curls back with two dexterous hands, his black-polished nails flashing in the low light. His long, glossy lashes brush her cheek as he softly kisses her jaw, just at her ear. “He’s thinking of you, too.”

 

Heat suffuses Elizabeth’s face and spreads to her chest. She wraps her arms about the butler’s neck and turns into his kiss, needy and frantic. Sebastian complies, and by his skill she feels her passionate inexperience become accomplished bliss. His hands take her hips and guide her until she’s riding him, gasping and letting out little moans in between. 

 

“Yes,” Sebastian whispers, falling back upon the mattress, “You are magnificent, my lady.” When she’s got the rhythm, his hands slide up to cup her breasts, tease and pluck the nipples, and she cries out. His look now is wicked, lips quirked, eyes flashing, and it spurs her on faster and faster. He reaches between her legs, and her hips stutter as she bucks wildly, thighs clenching, _everything_ inside her tight, as pleasure knots and unfurls in thundering pulses.

 

“Sebastian!” she whimpers helplessly.

 

_Ciel!_ she thinks as Sebastian grasps her hips once again, thrusting up and stilling, wicked mouth slightly open, slitted eyes burning into hers. Her nails dig into his flesh, and his lips close on a smile. Gently, he maneuvers her onto her back and hovers above, feathering her brow with light kisses as she catches her breath.

 

“I’m all sweaty,” she complains mildly.

 

Sebastian smiles again as if she’s just said she dropped a teaspoon. “But that is good, Lady Elizabeth. It means you’ve done well.” Out of nowhere he produces a handkerchief and delicately pats her face, absorbing the perspiration.

 

Her body feels heavy and light at the same time, and Elizabeth floats in a haze of euphoric exhaustion. There’s a dull ache inside, but it is not unpleasant. Her eyes, already unfocused as the butler tends to her, grow heavier and close. She drifts, listening to the whisper of sheets. She knows Sebastian will be gone when she wakes, as is only proper. When she wakes he will be with Ciel, tending to him in his morning routine.

 

Elizabeth’s head falls to the side, finding the pillow cool. 

 

Then it is no longer a pillow but the smooth, hard wall beneath her cheek from earlier that evening as she indulged a childish whim and stopped in the hall upon hearing Ciel speak her name.

 

“We’re to be married soon. I don’t want to have to do it myself, Sebastian.” Ciel’s voice is even, resolute. Elizabeth edges forward, risking a peek, and finds Ciel’s back to her as he faces the window of his study.

 

Though he is only in profile, it is a look of surprise Elizabeth thinks she sees upon the handsome butler’s face. A rarity and something that makes the already intriguing situation worrisome.

 

“What?” Ciel looks over his shoulder, amused. “Have I found something too indelicate for you?”

 

Sebastian recovers, all curiosity now, with a head tilt to match. “Forgive me, young master. You should know by now that nothing is ‘too indelicate.’” His head tilts ever-so-slightly in the direction of the door, and Elizabeth jumps back, heart beating madly. “I simply wish to understand—”

 

“What’s to understand? It is an inconvenience.” She hears the chill of anger in his voice now. Her brow furrows. Of what are they speaking? 

 

“Ah. I see. The pain, your inexperience—”

 

“Sebastian!” Elizabeth starts at Ciel’s outburst and puts a hand to her chest, the other to her mouth.

 

“Young master?” The butler sounds utterly confused. “Perhaps the matter is too indelicate for you?”

 

There is a low growl, and she is compelled to look for now she is concerned for Ciel. He has rounded on his butler, pale face flushed, blue eye glinting.

 

Incomprehensibly, Sebastian ignores his master’s ire. “If it were not, I might instruct you myself.”

 

“How dare you!”

 

Sebastian raises an elegant brow.

 

Ciel’s jaw clenches, but his gaze falls, and with it, his demeanor changes. He sinks into his cushioned chair and rests his chin in one hand. “The inconvenience of our wedding night would not be mine alone, it is true,” he admits, and Elizabeth’s breath catches, clarity slicing into her like a blade. “I don’t want . . . to embarrass myself,” he goes on, sitting up haughtily. “And I won’t hurt Lizzy. It shouldn’t have to hurt, not like . . .”

 

“I understand, young master,” Sebastian interrupts, though it’s clear Ciel had no intention of finishing whatever is plain to his butler but remains obfuscated for her.

 

“You are skilled,” Ciel states.

 

“Yes,” Sebastian confirms.

 

“You will be tender?” His face is only dimly visible in the lamplight, but it gives an impression of misery.

 

“I will be everything she wants.” Sebastian looks to her as he says this, dark eyes gleaming with the promise, even in the shadows.

 

When he comes to her later that night, she is waiting.


End file.
